Snowfall
by erinthesails
Summary: The untold story of the rise and fall of Snowman.
1. Prologue

Prologue

There were many things the Black Queen was simply born with an innate knowledge of. For instance she knew that her inborn wisdom came inextricably with being carapacian royalty, and she knew that queens in particular were especially intuitive about their sessions. She also knew that the Derse and Prospit she had come to know were not the first, nor would they be the last, iterations of the great Black and White kingdoms. She knew all of this and more with the kind of ironclad certainty that one knows Skaia will rise and set every day without fail. Her knowledge was not limitless, but it was enough to allow her to lead wisely and effectively.

But there were some things she did not understand so fully, and though she would never admit it to anyone, this made her deeply nervous. Since the day she emerged from her growth tank, she sensed an intangible but ever present cloud of apprehension lingering over her mind. As time passed, she grew more and more frustrated at her inability to interpret it. Was it some kind of prediction or doom? A warning? Was it simply a side effect of being born under the influence of the Outer Gods? Whatever it was, she knew better than to simply dismiss it. She spoke to no one, not even her husband, about these looming and nameless fears, but instead silently filtered all of her anxieties into ruling with unforgiving stringency. If it was a warning she was going to make goddamn sure to take advantage of it. She would ensure the survival of her people if it killed her.

She knew that her people resented her, felt the fear and anger radiating from their bodies when she spoke to them, though they were always careful to keep their faces expressionless in her presence. _If only they knew,_ she thought. _That I do, I do to protect them. Why can't they see that this war was inevitable? That our role in this universe is to fight and to win? That were I to rule any less harshly they would be unprepared for battle and die out on the field in droves? _Her love for her people was the only thing that kept her strong during the long years preceding the war and the violent beginnings of the battle itself. They had to win, she wouldn't allow any other outcome.

There were times that she wondered if her sister felt the same dark cloud in her mind, if she was similarly motivated to victory, but this was another dark spot in her knowledge. Anything regarding the specifics of the enemy's preparation and ultimate role in the war was simply blank to her. Presumably this was to keep the fight as even as possible.

_As if that could save them, _she thought, smirking and crossing her legs. She was not an especially vindictive woman, but she couldn't help the surge of glee and pride that pulsed through her veins when she thought of her kingdom crushing their opponents. She was born and bred to rule and if she couldn't at least take pleasure in that, then what did she have?

She tapped a button on the arm of her throne, changing the view on the screen before her. She had only one, and it was not a full wall like those given to some of her more prestigious agents, but it was all she required. It was used primarily for communication across castle, but she occasionally used it to reassure herself that all was running smoothly in the rest of the kingdom. Her lips curved upwards almost imperceptibly with satisfaction as she switched off the screen and stood to retrieve her ring from its safe. She hated wearing the thing, but the day's inspections had to be done, and no one could know she'd made a habit of taking it off. Lately she'd even taken to remaining in her chambers and putting it on only for brief screen conferences with her agents, but she knew if she didn't emerge sometime or another person people would grow suspicious. The Queen cringed inwardly as she contemplated the many grotesque bodily motifs the ring's many prototypings forced upon her.

_Why in the name of Skaia did that bitch have to prototype a frog of all things…_

She hadn't even made it to the vault when her chamber doors burst open. Black shelled guards spilled in as she stood glued to the spot with shock. With an even greater jolt of surprise, she noticed that the small armada was accompanied by three rather high-status agents.

"Wha-"

Her half formed protest turned withered in her throat as the final Dersite walked in. Her fingers curled into fists as the oh-so-familiar, stunted shadow of her favorite little snake emerged from the crowd. Dear Jack always did like a dramatic entrance. He flashed a rare and deeply unsettling grin as they locked eyes. There was a disturbing lack of anger in his expression, she noted with unease.

"Noir?" she growled. "What is the meaning of this?"

Jack smiled even wider.

"Don't fucking move, your majesty."

He motioned to the tall, thin agent beside him, who raised his spear expressionlessly to her throat. She looked around at the guards lining the doorway, hoping for some kind of explanation. They only stared blankly at her. What was going on?

"As your queen I DEMAND to-"

"I'm afraid you're not in charge around here anymore," the tall one cut in. The brute behind him cracked his knuckles menacingly.

"Excuse me? I am your queen and I could have you all exiled for this gross insubordination. Where is my husband? He's going to have something so say about this."

She loathed having to use the king as a threat. It had never been necessary before and the words tasted like tar in her mouth. She could handle herself dammit. But a queen is nothing if not prudent. She knew when she was outnumbered and outgunned. Calling in reinforcement seemed at this point to be her only option.

"Actually my dear," a deep voice boomed from beyond the door. "I'm afraid they have made no mistake."

The tentacled, frog headed figure of the king easily parted the crowd. He fixed her with a cold stare. "You have been sentenced to exile."

Her throat went dry. But she was careful to keep her composure. "For what crime, might I ask?" she replied coolly.

"Treason," Jack interjected. He arched his brow in amusement at her obvious horror as she turned to look at him. She could almost feel her blood boiling. She wanted nothing more than to carve that disgusting smile off of his face. To feel his blood running over her fingers, to hear his shell crack as she tore into it with her teeth…

She took a deep breath. "And what evidence do you have to support this claim?" she asked, her tone hard enough to cut glass.

The taller agent removed his spear from her throat and withdrew back into the crowd as Jack nudged the diminutive agent beside him. The little droll glanced around nervously then held up for all to see: her ring.

Her breath caught in her throat.

"But that's imposs-"

"Clearly not," Jack said as his compatriot pocketed the ring. "I received a recent tip off that you may be harboring sympathies for Prospit, and sure enough today we recovered your ring en route to the White Kingdom. It's a good thing Droll here was able to recover it before the Prospit royals could get their hands on it."

She listened wordlessly to his story, face utterly emotionless. An uncomfortable silence lingered over the room as she continued to stare blankly at the smug argchagent, making no move to refute him. Then without warning she threw back her head and let loose a shrieking, half crazed laugh that echoed in the Dersites' ears. They exchanged nervous glances. There was no doubt about it now, their queen had gone mad. None of them had ever seen her so much as smile before, and her shrill sounds of hysteria were utterly terrifying.

Finally the last echoing peals of her laughter died from the marble hall and she collected herself once more.

"Is that really all you've got Noir?"

She could tell he was trying hard to keep his face impassive but his repulsive self-satisfaction was written all across his face.

"It's all I need, _your highness_," he sneered. "I think you'll find that taking off the ring in and of itself is very much illegal."

A stout guard near the front nodded his head in fervent agreement as the mass advanced on her ever so slightly. She stood her ground. This was ridiculous; as if there was any way in hell she would ever sell out Derse. She looked beseechingly at her husband.

"You know none of this is true, right? You know I would never dream of helping Prospit," she spat bitterly on the ground at the name of their enemy. "After all I've done for this kingdom? What could I possibly have to gain by betraying you?"

"Just days ago I would have thought the same," the king replied solemnly. "It's not my place to guess at your motivations, all I know is that war changes people, and while there is a chance the archagent is mistaken, I would rather err on the side of caution than potentially lose thousands more lives due to my own blind trust."

He continued as she glared incredulously at him.

"We are so close to winning this war once and for all, and the only way to ensure out victory with minimal lives lost is to eliminate every potentially unpredictable variable."

No. This wasn't happening.

"I'm sorry, but you are hereby banished from the kingdom. The ship to The Badlands will be here in an hour."

Screams bubbled in her throat fighting to be heard and her blood boiled with murderous rage. She quietly swallowed both urges.

"Very well then," she said. Two guards stepped forward and stood by her sides, ready to escort her out. Neither of them made a move to touch her, which was really a smart move on their part. "Good luck fighting this war alone, dear husband. And good luck keeping this kingdom afloat when this worm," she fixed her eyes on Jack, "double crosses you too."

She swept towards the doorway, refusing to look at any of them. They had just about reached the hallway when, almost as an afterthought, she whirled to face Jack and advanced on him. Before any of the guards had could think to stop her, her fingers were locked around his throat. She slammed him into a pillar and pushed herself against him until her lips were just millimeters from his ear.

"You," she whispered. "I will get you for this if it's the last thing I do."

She pulled back to look at him. His mouth twisted into a snarl as he clawed wordlessly at her hand and gasped for air. She looked him up and down then removed her hand from around his neck and turned back towards the dumbfounded crowd without another word.

One thought pulsed red hot in her mind as she stared down the long, black hallway and heard the doors to her throne room slam shut for the last time.

_This isn't over._


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

The queen stood motionless for several minutes as the transport ship that had left her there rocketed away. She watched silently as the insignia of Derse vanished into the clouds for the last time, taking with it any chance of returning to the only home she had ever known. Violent wind whipped multicolored sands into her legs and face, but she made no move to pull up her hood. She wanted to rip these rags off of her body and kill the swine that forced them upon her. She wanted to destroy every last Dersite involved in her exile. She wanted to rip her husband limb from limb, to flay the shell from Noir's body, to pull out his friends' fingers one by one…

But instead she just screamed. She felt her knees collide with the sand as she screamed her throat raw and clawed her face, only stopping when she tasted blood. She sat there for a moment, shaking, the taste of copper heavy on her tongue, trying to catch her breath.

Getting slowly to her feet, a wave of disgust washed over her. Banished and quasi-royal as she might now be, she was still a queen, and this was no way for a queen to act. She took a deep breath and clenched her jaw. Time to put her strategic training to work. Looking around, she tried to get her bearings in this despicable wasteland of a planet. There were no discernable landmarks that she could see. Not from this vantage point anyway. Just miles and miles and fucking miles of this ridiculous rainbow sand.

As her rage ebbed, she became more and more acutely aware of the fact that she was not only banished from her kingdom, she was stranded in the middle of a barren wasteland with no food, water, or shelter, and night was fast approaching. If there were any supplies to be found in this desert they sure as hell weren't here. The only thing she could do now was walk and hope she ended up somewhere eventually.

Glancing around, she noticed some bigger sand dunes on the horizon. If nothing else she would be able to see farther from on top of them. Brushing sand off of her limp, grey wrappings, she pulled the hood over her head and began to walk.

She had been walking for three hours when the sun finally began to set. Staggering to a halt, she squinted at the shrinking sliver of light quickly slipping behind the dunes. There was no chance of finding any kind of sustenance tonight.

Spotting a small cluster of boulders a few feet away, she dragged herself towards them and wearily sat down. She wanted so badly to lie down, but even with her practically nonexistent survival skills, she knew she could get lost in an instant without leaving some kind of marking of the direction she was going. She took a deep breath and pushed herself to her knees. Gathering the last of her strength, threw her weight against one of the more oblong rocks, swiveling it until it pointed obviously in the direction she had been walking.

She collapsed into the sand and scooted up against the rock, propping herself up. She cast her eyes upward, listlessly staring at the unfamiliar sky of her new home.

It was rather beautiful she had to admit. Two mismatched moons floated in the darkening sky, casting a strange pink and green glow over the desert. After a moment she turned her gaze to the blackness that hung like a veil around them. She couldn't help but feel homesick as she gazed into the unreachable darkness that hid her planet.

_Derse is somewhere out there, _she found herself thinking. _Somewhere in all that darkness, my kingdom is waiting._

A pang of anger and sadness shot through her as she thought about how distant it was, how remote.

_Whether they know it or not, they're waiting for me. They need me._

She tore her eyes from the cruel reminder of her former life and turned over, shivering as the temperature slowly dropped. It wasn't really cold, but after being out in the blazing hellfire that this planet calls a sun all day, anything less than utterly boiling was chilly.

_I have to get back. Somehow I have to get back. I _will _get back and then they'll all see…_

Her thought dwindled off. What would they see? What would she show them that would so fill them with regret for her exile? Would she unleash the full scope of her royal wrath upon them? Torture them all until they took back every word, every false accusation, every treasonous thought? And what good would that do exactly? She gritted her teeth, grudgingly realizing the pointlessness of her own rage. If she wanted to make things right, she had to keep a clear head.

_Think. What is really important right now? You're still a queen dammit, prioritize. What is important in this moment?_

She began silently listing: _1) Food, water, and shelter. 2) Finding or building some kind of civilization on this forsaken rock. 3) Returning to and protecting Derse. 4) Making Jack Noir's life a living hell._

She couldn't help but grin a little to herself at the last one. Okay so maybe that one wasn't strictly vital, but it would make for some enjoyable extra credit.

The knot of panic and anxiety in the pit of her stomach began to loosen as she thought through her list.

_Baby steps,_ she thought. _One step at a time is the best way to handle this. I'm going to make it back. Number one, survival. Number two, civilization. Number three…_

Reassured by her new plan of action, she ran over this list again and again in her head, eventually drifting to sleep.

She awoke sometime just before midday, judging by the position of the blazing sun that woke her, and set out immediately. It felt strange to be sleeping through the darkness that she'd lived her whole life in, and being out and about in the light, but the nights here were really too dark and the desert to vast to make navigating it practical. Even with the light of the two moons, she didn't want to risk getting turned around on accident and expending precious energy wandering in circles.

Luckily hunger and thirst had yet to really set in, but she knew it wouldn't be long now. In many ways, carapacian royalty were built stronger than their pawns-they had thicker carapace, stronger bodies, and more effective claws to protect themselves in battle – but survival was one thing their bodies were not well adapted for. After being used to the luxuries of life at the castle, she didn't want to think about how quickly her body would start to shut down without proper care.

The exile of a royal was a relatively rare occurrence in the game, so their bodies were ultimately designed more for the purpose of looking intimidating and fighting effectively than survival. This was just another one of those things she knew inherently, without having to be told; her body was physically strong, but very much without adaptability.

Not that she _really_ had to be worried about that just yet. She wasn't going to expire after a single day in the desert-she wasn't quite _that_ fragile-but it was a serious concern. Another 4 or 5 days out here and things would start getting grim, and as of yet there was no sign of civilization or supplies.

Waving these thoughts away, she trudged on. She couldn't afford to lose her focus. She had to keep going.

By the end of the day she had still found nothing and gotten nowhere. As the sun slipped once again beneath the horizon, she eyed the outline of the dunes that she had made her compass. They still seemed so distant…The pit of her stomach dropped a little thinking about the long walk still ahead of her. She was so tired – and not in ways that sleep could cure either. She shut her eyes and rested fitfully through the night.

It was another two days until she finally arrived at the bottom of the dunes she that had served as her guiding light during her exile. Staggering up to the huge hill of sand, weak and weary from hunger, thirst, and outright exhaustion, she set herself immediately to the task of clambering to the top. As the sun set for the 4th time since arriving on this rock, she felt a small seed of hope taking root in her stomach.

_There has to be at least remnants of a civilization somewhere. Please be close. Please for the love of gods…_

Dragging herself over the top of the dune, she crumbled to her knees for a moment, breathing hard. It had been a lot steeper than she actually expected it to be. Catching her breath, she made no move to stand or look up, eyes fixed on the sand underneath her. If she was met with an empty horizon she had no idea what she would do or how she would survive. Finally she tensed, steeling herself for whatever she might see, and looked up.

Nothing.

Her stomach lurched and her stinging throat went dry. Nothing. No sign of any kind of building or civilization as far as the eye could see. No ruins, no dilapidated shacks; just sand stretching infinitely in all directions. She snapped her head around to check the direction she had just come from. Still nothing. She got shakily to her feet.

_No. There has to be something._

She turned in unsteady circles, glancing over all the horizon lines again and again as if with _one more turn _she could make a crumbling city appear. _This isn't happening, this isn't happening, this isn't happening…_

For the second time in her life (and incidentally in this desert as well) her composure completely and utterly snapped.

"THERE WAS A PLANET FULL OF PEOPLE HERE ONCE!" she screamed to the silent wasteland. "THEY MUST HAVE LEFT SOMETHING BEHIND! ANYTHING!"

She stumbled backwards and, foot sinking into the sand, pitched over the edge of the sand dune onto her back. Before she had time to register what was happening, she was plunging down the opposite side of the sand bank. Instinctually squeezing her eyes shut, she clawed at the sand as she tumbled down, searching desperately for purchase. She had almost reached the bottom when her hand struck something solid – solid and very painful. She stopped scrabbling for a handhold and grabbed her wrist, her mouth falling open in a silent shriek of pain. Finally she slowed to a stop at the bottom of the dune.

She lay there for a minute, boiling with rage and feeling vaguely nauseous, unsure of whether she was feeling more angry or humiliated. They were at about a tie, she decided grudgingly, pulling herself to her feet and spitting sand from her mouth. Her knees shook and her hand throbbed but she couldn't stand the thought of sitting uselessly for another moment. She inspected her injured hand, searching out cracks and tears in the carapace. There was a small fracture just by her thumb, but nothing too life threatening. It would heal in a day or so.

_At least my body will be whole and unblemished when I starve to death._

Peering through the vortexes of sand her fall had stirred up, she spotted the thing that had caught her hand. A metal panel poked out of the sand, glinting dully in the weakening sun. She squinted at it, waiting for the thick, grimy fog in the air around her to settle. It looked as if it was attached to something larger. Some kind of storage unit perhaps? Her heart leapt. Steadying herself once more, she trudged part way back up the dune to reach it.

She knelt by the large chunk of metal, careful to keep her footing in the sand this time. Now being so close to it, she couldn't believe she hadn't noticed it before. A sizable chunk poked out of the side of the dune, enough to comfortably stand on; it was by no stretch of the imagination hidden. She brushed some excess sand off the top and knocked twice on the solid metal. It echoed dully.

She bit her lip, not wanting to get her hopes up too much. Hollow could mean anything. It could mean a store of food and supplies, but it could also just be some kind of bank vault, or a blown off piece of a building. For all she knew there might already be people taking shelter inside, and she had a feeling that if she ran into any Dersites she had exiled, they would be less than pleased to see her. She had to keep her head about this.

Scooping away as much loose sand as she could, she quickly uncovered a wide, round nodule in the center of the container, topped with a green spirograph, the symbol of Skaia. _Could it be?_

She pressed her hand onto the nodule, not entirely sure of what else to do. There didn't appear to be any kind of handle or latch to pull. To her surprise, it clicked and loosened under her palm. She started, not expecting it to open so easily, then jammed her nails under the surprisingly light metal covering and flipped it open, revealing a ladder that led down into a dark room.

She stared down the hole for a moment, dumbstruck. After a moment's hesitation, she leaned over and called down the shaft.

"Hello?"

No answer.

"Is anyone in here?"

Still no answer.

Her hands shook slightly, from both anticipation and exhaustion in equal parts, as she took hold of the ladder handles. If this was what she thought it was, it meant beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was saved. But it also meant that her fate in this game, the role she was meant to play in this universe, was drastically different than what she had ever expected. Lowering herself into the hole, she clambered nimbly down the ladder.

The air around her had dropped at least 15 degrees as she descended. Her muscles remained tense, ready to spring into action in the unlikely event that someone else had stumbled across the nodule before her and did not take kindly to visitors. Almost before she even touched the ground, she whirled around, ready to defend herself against any disgruntled Dersites or territorial Prospitians. The room was utterly devoid of life.

But, she noted as she relaxed her posture, it was in no way empty.

The inside of this nondescript metal container was lined with high tech machinery and electronics, practically brimming with computers more sophisticated than anything she had seen in the growth and birthing centers on Derse even. She stared around the expansive chamber, eyes wide. Her guess had been confirmed: she had stumbled across an exile command center.

She swept over to the control deck that was situated against the wall to her right, as it was obviously intended to be the centerpiece of the room. She ran her fingers over the metal keys, looking up at the 12 screens that crowned the mess of wires and machinery. Two of the screens were lit with a dull grey glow, but the rest stared blankly into the room, black and lifeless.

Surveying them intently, she couldn't help but wonder why she had been brought here of all places. Never in all her life had she expected to see the inside of a command laboratory. She had known they were an integral part of the game of course, but being the queen, she had expected her command to be more direct, dictating action from the throne or even, in the case of her king somehow put out of action, fighting on the battlefield herself. Guiding the players was not a path she had even hypothetically explored. She wracked her brain for any stored information on how the command terminal was meant to be used. Nothing.

She couldn't help but think, as she surveyed the massive system before her, that it was extremely odd for her not to have been imbued with any knowledge of how to carry out a task the game had known all along she would have to undertake. Perhaps it was a mistake of programming? Or a necessity of fate that she figure this step out entirely on her own?

Taking care to avoid the large, green arrow emblazoned button that stuck awkwardly off of the rest of the keyboard, she tapped the enter key. Two things happened simultaneously: both of the glowing screens flickered to life, each displaying a video feed of a different young girl, and small door swung open somewhere behind her. She turned, looking for the source of the clattering noise. Some kind of containment unit affixed to the wall had opened, revealing a store of cans, which, if the fading labels were correct, seemed to contain an array of foods. Immediately forgetting the screens and their mysterious content, she fell ravenously upon the food, tearing open the cans with her claws. How long had it been since she'd last eaten. 3 days? 4? It felt like so much longer.

After a few minutes she slowed down and, can in hand, returned to the control deck. The two dimly glowing screens had come to life, each displaying a different girl sitting in her bedroom. Two of the players, she presumed, if she was in fact in an exile terminal as she had guessed.

She watched them go about their business for some time. She supposed she should try to talk to them? It made her uncomfortable to even think about venturing into territory she hadn't even a vague peripheral knowledge of. But if there was one thing she knew, it was that the game's will was stronger than that of any individual component of it. Brushing crumbs from her garment, she pushed herself to her feet and strode somewhat nervously to the control deck. The soft electronic lights pulsed gently at her, looming all the way up to the ceiling.

**Hello. **

Almost in sync, the two girls looked up from what they were doing, glancing around in obvious confusion.

_Interesting…_she thought.

**What is your name?**

Neither responded immediately, but instead shifted in discomfort. The longhaired one on the right turned back to her computer, refusing to acknowledge the question. The one on the left however tentatively mouthed something she couldn't hear.

**I can't hear you.**

The one on the right stared stolidly at her computer, blocking her out completely. The other one fumbled for a little red stick in her desk and wrote in big, blocky letters on her wall: "T3R3ZI".

**It is nice to meet you.**

The girl on the left smiled a little, then glanced around nervously and returned to her computer. The queen doubted that she would get much more out of either of them today, and stepped away from the screens. She still didn't trust herself around these computers. She still had no idea what their full capabilities were, anything more than simple conversations could be dangerous.

She settled down against the wall across from the massive terminal, picking up one of the half finished cans she had left sitting on the floor in her rush to ingest as much food as she possibly could. She poured more peas into her mouth and wondered quietly. Why had she been made an exile? How was she supposed to save her kingdom by aiding the enemy? What was the point of all of this?

_Clearly I was supposed to find this place,_ she thought, chewing and watching the grey children scurry around on the screens. _If I am to be exile to the players now, perhaps that means I don't need to return to Derse in order to save it. Maybe being exiled wasn't severing me from my destiny; maybe it was leading me to it._

Swallowing the last of her peas, she discarded the empty can and curled into a ball on the floor. _Yes, that has to be it. This isn't the end. This is the beginning. _Her eyes slid shut, a small smile quirking the corner of her mouth.

For the first time since leaving her kingdom, the Black Queen slept soundly.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

After 4 days in her new, steel walled home, the Queen was itching to keep moving.

It wasn't that she'd had any particularly revolutionary ideas about where to go or that food was in danger of running out any time soon, but she just couldn't stand sitting still for much longer. It had taken less than a day for the pure joy of safe haven to fade to a dull, anxious boredom. The Queen could call upon an incredible capacity for patience when the situation called for it, but she simply could not abide being utterly sedentary. She hadn't even had the mystery of the grey children to occupy her time, as the delicate electronics and machinery had made her slightly nervous. She had spent enough time around such complex devices in the intelligence and birthing centers of Derse to know that operating them without training could be extremely disastrous. After her initial greeting to the two young girls, she'd left the computer system well enough alone

Her initial epiphany upon discovering the underground oasis no was no longer just a simple comfort to her; it had lit a fire of determination an her stomach, pushing her to move, to find the elusive purpose that had haunted her thoughts for so long. She had to do more than just survive: she had to get home.

The night before her departure she had found a bit of spare cloth and some old rope hidden away in some far corner of the room and fashioned it into a makeshift rucksack, stuffing as many cans into it as she possibly could. Why a high tech command center would have had bits of cloth and cord lying about she couldn't imagine, but she supposed it was no more unusual than finding said high tech command center buried in the desert of an abandoned planet. The room itself seemed sort of strange like that. It was almost as if someone long ago had stocked it knowing exactly what she would need. She decided not to question her blessings.

One hand on a ladder rung and one clutching her dingy food bag, she surveyed the room that had probably saved her life, making sure she hadn't forgotten anything. She couldn't help but feel slightly nostalgic as turned and quickly scaled the ladder back up to the light, a length of rope tucked under one arm and a bag of food under the other. If she was unable to find civilization after a few days, she would try to make her way back here. She intended to leave a short trail of rope leading away from the entrance so at least she would be able to find it again if she was relatively close. She realized, of course, that the chances of wandering back to the exact spot where the rope ended was slim to none, but she stubbornly refused to think about it.

Finally she emerged, blinking into the light, shielding her eyes against the blazing sun. Wasting no time allowing herself to adjust, she quickly tied off one end of the rope to the ladder, set the lid loosely back on top, and scrambled down the dune.

Pushing herself to her feet, se looked around. No landmarks. Nothing even vaguely distinguishable on the horizon towards which she could aim. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. _Come on. Make a decision._

Unsure of what else to do, she stuck her arm straight out in front of her and spun in an awkward, hesitant circle. She stumbled quickly to a stop and opened her eyes. An empty landscape, identical to that surrounding it stretched before her, just ever so slightly to the left of where the entrance of the room had spat her out.

_It would appear I'm going this way._

She took a step forward, setting her mouth into a hard line and falling into a confident stride. Even if she had no idea what she was doing she sure as hell wasn't going to let her confusion show.

"Going somewhere?"

She whipped her head pretenses of confidence instantly dropped.

Her eyes immediately fell upon a small man just a few feet away, dressed all in green and white and perched imperiously on a sand dune. Her heart was still hammering in her throat and she swallowed, trying to hide the panic that had knifed so unexpectedly through her body. She squinted at him through the thick, sand filled air. His skin, upon further inspection, seemed to be a crisp, stark white. Not the clean, shiny exoskeleton that marked a citizen of Prospit, but closer to some kind of fabric perhaps. This man was no carapacian, she was sure of that. His head appeared to be…some kind of huge, white ball? A million questions occurred to her all at once, and yet she could not think of a single thing to say to him.

"That was a joke," he said, relieving her of the responsibility of answering. "Hoo hoo."

"Of course you're not going anywhere, you're stuck in the middle of the desert with no idea what you're doing, nor any idea of where _to_ go."

Once again she was without a response, and once again he took responsibility for their conversation.

"To answer a few of the half formed questions I'm sure am simply racing through your head at the moment, yes I am indeed the one speaking, no I am not from the White Kingdom but am in fact a puppet, and yes my head is a giant cue ball; which, to answer another of your half formed questions, is part of a game the inhabitants of this planet once played in their leisure time. But I'm certain you will learn all about that soon enough though."

She couldn't help but feel like this information asked more questions than it answered. She opened her mouth to tell him so when he cut her off.

"I realize, my dear, that your head must still be simply bursting with questions, but I'm afraid you must come with me immediately."

"And why exactly would I want to do that?" she said, finding her voice at last and fixing him with an ice-cold stare. _Your condescension, good sir, is doing you no favors._

"Because it is your destiny."

She quirked a brow.

"Yes, I'm sure a puppet man who lives in the middle of an alien desert would know all about my destiny," she replied sardonically.

He chuckled lightly and moved for the first time since their meeting, breaking his impeccable posture to stride down the dune towards her. She took a step back, fists clenched, as he approached her.

"My dear, I do not live in this desert," he said warmly, stopping a few feet short of her. "I actually have quite a lovely manner not too far from here."

He hesitated.

"Well, I suppose it would be far if you attempted to reach it by way of foot, but from my point of view there are few things that I could truly consider to be 'far'."

"I am not your _dear_," the Queen spat, ignoring his self-important monologuing. The more time she spent around this man, the more she wanted to leave him in her dust forever.

_So why don't I?_

She didn't trust this man. Didn't like him. Hated him even, though she had met him just a minute or so ago, but something kept her rooted to the spot.

"But of course," he replied smoothly. "My apologies your majesty."

He spoke with no hint of irony but his light, careless tone made her want to throttle him.

"Who are you?" she demanded. Her patience was quickly dwindling.

He sighed.

"I had hoped to give a more formal introduction at the manor. Of course I knew you would insist upon doing things your way, but one can always hope."

He made a throat clearing sound and straightened his bowtie.

"My name is Doc Scratch, proxy leader of a gang by the name of The Felt, overseer of the Green Moon – as well as most other things in this universe – and devastatingly handsome cue ball."

"And why, _Mister Scratch,_" she intoned accusingly. "Do you seem to believe so wholeheartedly that I will be so willing to go wherever it is you are trying to take me?"

"Because I am omniscient," he said matter-of-factly.

She stared at him. He spoke up once more, breaking her stunned silence.

"I realize that this must be difficult for you to believe, but I assure you it is quite true. I know, for instance, that you willend up joining me and aiding me in my plans, and that you will take on a new name during the course of your journey with me, and that your participation will be vital to the success of our mission. I understand that you are imbued with a similar knowledge of your session?"

"I know many things," she said, kneading her sharp fingertips into her palms. "But I cannot see the future."

"Of course not. But you do possess certain knowledge about the conditions of your session and your role in its existence, am I correct?"

She nodded slowly.

"Of course I am. And have you not, my venerated monarch, felt for all of your life that you had some grander destiny? Some broader purpose to serve? A nagging sense of distant expectancy in the back of your mind that you could never quite get rid of?"

Her breath caught silently in her throat. _Should I lie to him?_ she thought, masking her panic. Even in spite of all his cordial niceties, she could not bring herself to trust him. For reasons she couldn't quite put her finger on, there was something about him that (though she could hardly admit it to herself) really and truly scared her. And that was saying quite a lot. A Queen, born for battle and bred for war, did not spook easily.

But if he was not omniscient, how could he possibly known about her secret fears for her kingdom? Fears she had never uttered aloud, not even to her husband? Not even to herself?

If he was omniscient then there was really no point in lying to him, she decided grudgingly.

"Yes," she finally said.

"Well congratulations Madame, you have found that purpose!" he said, gesturing grandly to the sky like a circus ringmaster.

"This is what it has all been leading up to; your life as the Queen of Derse was merely a prologue to what you will soon become."

"I still don't understand," she said. "What is it exactly that you need me for?"

"I'm building an army of sorts," he replied simply. "For quite some time now I have been collecting a group of exceptionally talented individuals and helping them nurture their skills to the best of my ability. I need you to complete the set; to fill the final and most important position."

She hesitated. The idea of spending any more time with this little man was repulsive…but what if he was right? She was finding it hard to ignore the fact that the same little voice, quiet and pervasive, that had always insisted that she was always for something greater, was telling her that this was it. That this was important. That she had to go with him.

"If I do this…" she started. "Will I be able to save my kingdom?"

"Put it this way your highness," he said. "If you take my offer, you will be changing the fate of billions."

Her heart pounded as she silently contemplated.

"Additionally, I feel like I should mention," he interjected. He had no facial features, but she could hear the smile in his voice. "This deal comes with all the revenge you could ever possibly hope to exact upon Jack Noir."

Slowly, in spite of herself, the corners of her mouth twister up into a sharp toothed grin. _Hmm…_

"And really," he added almost as an afterthought, clasping his hands behind his back. "Let's be honest, what more do you have to lose?"

She eyed him carefully, straightened up to her full height. Her decision had been made.

"Okay," she said. "I'll do it."

"Excellent!" he exclaimed, stepping towards her.

"But I have one question," she added. "If you're omniscient, then you must have known all along that I was out here. Why did you wait so long to confront me? Why did you let me waste away in the desert for 5 days before you could be bothered to make this proposition?"

"Because you had things you needed to discover on your own," he replied coolly, unfazed by her sudden hostility. "Take care not to forget about what you learned during your exile. All of it will be important later."

_Does all this have something to do with the grey children in the monitor…_she wondered. She doubted that he would have given her a straight answer even if she had bothered to ask. Instead she squinted at him.

"I could have died."

"But I knew that you wouldn't. Must I say it again?"

He waved a hand at his huge, faceless head.

"Omniscient."

Before she had a chance to respond he proffered a white-gloved hand at her. "Now take my hand if you would."

She glanced from his hand to his head, still unsure.

"Or would you rather wander this desert for another week or so and simply dry up, your valiant dreams of revenge and redemption tragically and eternally crushed?" he said after a moment of silence.

"Charming," she replied dryly.

He said nothing ,but inclined his head towards her expectantly, hand still held aloft. She inhaled deeply. It was now or never…

Then, before her own doubt could dissuade her, she grabbed his hand.

"Hold on," he said.

And then they ceased to exist.

Her body went numb and all at once her atoms dissociated. For just a moment she was nowhere and everywhere all at once. She didn't even have time to scream.

Then it was over. Air burned back into her lungs and she staggered backwards, clutching her chest. Scratch stood patiently beside her.

"You get used to it, I promise," he said as she blinked stars from her eyes.

Shaking but regaining stability, she lifted her head to see where they had rematerialized. A towering green mansion sprawled before them, structurally lopsided and mismatching: a Frankenstein of a building. But it gave off a soft, mysterious glow that she found enticing, comforting even.

"My humble abode," said Scratch, gesturing towards the mansion. "And now yours as well."

Her face remained impassive as she surveyed the massive complex, but she couldn't help but be impressed. It was at least as large as her palace at Derse.

"Well?" he said after a beat of silence. "Would you like to meet everyone?"

Without waiting for her response, he turned his back on her and strode leisurely towards the building. After a moment's hesitation, she followed him to her new castle. To her new life.


	4. Author's Note

Hey everyone! I probably should have added this onto the end of the last chapter, but it totally slipped my mind. I'm going to be participating in NaNoWriMo this month, which means I probably won't have the time to work on the next chapter of Snowfall until late December or later. I'll delete this message once I get the next chapter up, but I just thought I'd let those of you who are actually following this know that it will be on a brief hiatus. I just didn't want anyone to think I abandoned the story or anything.

Have a lovely November everyone!


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